The Spy Who Loved Me
by jurietta
Summary: A cataclysmic series of events is sparked when the mysterious spy known as Arthur Kirkland saves a bystander from certain doom at the hands of an enemy association. [Reader x 1P/2P England] Warning: Intense drama and gore.
1. Chapter 1

The cold metal barrel of a gun juts under your chin.

"Nobody move or I shoot her! And then the whole thing 'll blow u-"

*BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!*

Three bullets shoot clean through the three spades of the playing card. Spurts of blood. The hand holding the card falls limp as the gun drops from your head. Still paralyzed from fear, you hear the surrounding chaos as the casino guests scramble away to avoid getting blown to pieces. A hand roughly placed on your shoulder jerks you back to your senses.

"This way, love. _Now._" says a man's voice, equally rough and emotionless.

As he steers you through the crowd, you manage to look back and catch a glimpse of your rescuer. Blonde hair slicked back with gel, a tense expression is stamped across his face. His green eyes are as sharp and cold as precious emeralds hoarded by the rich.

"W-what? You are-" you stammer.

"Name's Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland." he says curtly.

"But where are we going?"

"I'll explain that when we get there."

"Security! Drop your weapons!" More shots follow, just up in the air. They run like chickens. But now a police car blocks the exit! No second thoughts-with only his gun, your rescuer (or kidnapper?) smashes through the enormous glass window on the side of the casino. He shields you from the flying glass with with his arm but does not slow down for an instant.

Now you are both running to a parked car. He opens the door to the passenger side, shoving you in. The car's ignition starts even before he jumps in the driver's seat and you are pulled into the frenzy of traffic of the nighttime city street.

"Sorry, love-that wasn't very gentleman-ly of me, now was it?" You notice his strong British accent. He instantly seems more relaxed after he enters the car, as if he knows the battle is already won.

_This car..._

You look around. It is definitely not a normal car. Blinking lights, radars, and displays in a code you cannot understand overflow on the dashboard.

"MI6!" you exclaim.

He smirks. "Took you long enough, eh? Double-O seven at your service!"

"At my service? I still don't know where the hell we're going!"

"All in good time, l-" ***BEEEEEEP*** One of the lights on the dashboard starts flashing rapidly.

He tries to hide it but you notice his oddly-shaped eyebrows flinch instinctively. "Guess that means it's time then."

The car swerves off the side of the road and comes screechingly to a halt. He unbuckles his seatbelt, and turns to look you in the eyes, the urgency expressed in those green orbs burning into your own.

"I'm going to need to take that dress off now, love."

"_W-What?_" As you process what he just said an uncontrollable heat rushes to your face.

The young man rolls his eyes in frustration. "There's no time for such rubbish! You've got a bomb on you, and for the sake of _my_ life, I plan to find it..." The secret agent's gaze comes to rest on the generously-sized pendant drooping over the bodice of your dress- you let out a yip as he yanks it forward!

"It's in the bloody necklace!" he exclaims. "Blast it, _, you've got to get it off!"

You try but to no avail. The necklace had been a gift from your lover, who was still back at the casino.

"He said... 'I'll love you until the chain breaks'..." you murmur under your breath, still in shock.

"Bullshit!" Arthur sighs in exasperation, speedily uravelling two wires coming from the car's glove compartment and attaching them to the necklace's heavy pendant. A computerized voice comes from the dash.

"Warning. One minute until detonation. Please evacuate now." You look up to him in panic.

"It's either the bugger blows up in one minute or my decryption system turns it off before that." Out of the corner of your eye you see blinking on the dashboard as the program runs through a thousand password combinations a second. But the wave of doubt that passes across his face gives you your answer.

"Please Arthur, just leave. Save yourself at least." A deep, quivering breath. "And the people who didn't get blown up had I still been at the casino."

"No." He takes your hand in his. "I'm not going anywhere."

●▬▬▬▬๑۩۩๑▬▬▬▬▬●

You find yourself crying into his shoulder. But he just sits there, looking straight ahead into nothingness. His hand absent-mindedly starts to stroke your hair to comfort you, but you can tell he is far away in his own world right now.

_This is the one man, the one man who didn't use you. Who was willing to throw away his life for you. Even if it was stupid. Even if you were both gonna die anyways- even if he had just met you and you were from opposing countries! You had been on his enemy's side before. Your lover, the one who gave you the necklace, was a Russian. So the Vladimir whom you trusted was going to let you to die for the success of his mission. And yet this complete stranger was willing to die with you although his mission-to get the bomb out of the casino- had already been taken care of._

These thoughts flash through your head as the potentially last sixty seconds of your life tick by.

_It should be anytime soon now._

You hold on to him tighter, bracing yourself for the impact.

_Since we're going to die anyways, I want him to know._

"It may seem stupid- and rushed- but for this I- I lo..."

***BEEEEEEEEEP* Sequence code deactivated. The password is SCONES.**

"Ahh-ha! Bloody bollocks, well that took five years off-a my life!" As he kisses you, the now useless one-minute-timer goes off.

**WARNING. Detonation in process now.** He pulls away and laughs. "I've died and gone to heaven!"

You laugh too. _We made it out alive! I'm so thankful for my life... and for his._

He turns his attention back to the steering wheel. "Well, where to now, miss? Home?"

"Home, well I..." You instantly think of Vladimir and your gaze hardens.

"It's that I don't have a home."

"That's quite all right, love." he whispers almost inaudibly. "Neither do I.*"

And with that the two of you drive off into the night, free just this once from the limitations and greed of secret societies.

THE END (Nope! I'm deciding to continue this!)

*If you guys follow the movies, James Bond was an orphan and hated his childhood home, Skyfall. Plus it kind of blew up and stuff. Keep updated if you wanna hear the rest of this~!


	2. Chapter 2

Sounds of traffic outside the hotel room had woken me up. I struggled groggily to shed the warm covers around me and look at the room. Mornings had never really been my thing, and it didn't help that Arthur and I had stayed up so late last night talking. A slight smile escaped me when I noticed him sleeping on the couch in the same exact position I left him in last night. Some James Bond he was!

Well, I wanted to make a nice surprise for him, since, you know he _saved my life_ and everything, so I decided to make some breakfast tea with the little ceramic cups the hotel provided. I knew he would like the surprise. He seemed like the type for that. I was just pouring the water for the tea into the cups when I felt a pair of arms around my waist. Of course, not expecting this, I threw everything into the air in surprise and a mini Niagara Falls of boiling water landed on my bare toes.

"Buggity bug bug bugger!"

"Sorry, I'm so sorry! Wait... what did you just say?" Arthur's laugh makes the pain a little more bearable, at least.

"I was just trying really hard not to curse. My family's Catholic, you know."

"Or Protestant."

"What?"

He just shakes his head, smiling. "Pain is pain. And, oh, sorry about that. Let's go out for tea instead, all right?"

"All right..." I reply, looking into his eyes a little bit too wistfully.

~.~.~

About thirty minutes later, I stepped out the door wearing one of Arthur's shirts and a pair of leggings from last night. He also gives me a coat because it's the middle of winter and my strapless dress from the casino just won't cut it. I notice people staring at us as we walk down the street to the coffee shop.

"Great, now they think I'm the stupid girlfriend who purposely dressed lightly just to get her boyfriend's coat on her shoulders." I mutter.

Arthur's reply is to pull me in closer. "Let the wankers think what they want." he whispers. "They're just jealous."

"Two Earl Grays, please." We decide to take the tea to-go and adventure around the little shops while it still keeps our hands warm.

"Look at this necklace! Isn't it a pretty color?"

Arthur checks the tag. "15 pounds? Yours." His eyes flicker up to meet mine for just a second and I remark (as if I wouldn't have known that already by all the staring I've done at this point) that they're the same exact colour as the gemstone.

The man I've just met yesterday sweeps up my hair and fastens the clasp behind my neck. Then I suddenly start feeling really, really warm. Maybe it was the thick fabric of Arthur's coat; maybe it's a brush of the arm that just seconds ago nestled in the crook of my waist- maybe it's the warm fuzzy feeling forming in my chest and permeating through to my cheeks at his touch. Oh wait, it wasn't any of those.

It was the warm spurt of blood trickling down my neck as I watched the shopkeeper's head become completely detached from his torso.

~.~.~.~

The arm yanked away from my side drew bullets faster that the assassin could escape. Arthur's tea, barely touched, lay spilt on the ground; mixing with blood and turning the pavement into a rusty-coloured vortex. The same vortex that formed in my head as I ran away as fast as I could.

Hot, too hot. I struggled with the buttons of Arthur's coat as its leathery hands tried to strangle me alive. I raced up the flights of stairs to the hotel room, where I didn't even bother to rip off the rest of my clothing before I turned on the water. I got in the shower and watched unbelieving as the blood rinsed off. Unbelieving because I could still feel it on me. Sticky, stuck between my hair and my fingernails; the creases in my skin. I scrubbed I scrubbed I scrubbed, almost to the point where I caused my own blood to spill. But I could not get it off.

I sat slumped under the pounding rain of the shower, which had pity enough to camouflage my wet tears and drown out the sound of my sobbing. I glanced at the necklace that I had just yanked from my neck and onto the floor. My blurring eyes wouldn't censor that it was still encrusted with blood.

How could it be that, in just a fragment of a second, the emerald joy of Arthur's company was so stained by the crimson malice of his profession?


End file.
